


a tree grows in the shire

by crazyrabiebabies



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Bag End, Baggenshield - Freeform, Gold Sickness, M/M, Possible Character Death, The Acorn, Thilbo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-29
Updated: 2015-01-29
Packaged: 2018-03-09 12:42:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3250094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crazyrabiebabies/pseuds/crazyrabiebabies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was all too much. Too much for a simple hobbit to handle. Seeing his close friend and almost lover crumble under the dragon sickness was just overwhelming Bilbo with emotions he was ill prepared for. He needed to get away-away from the mountain and all the poisoned gold within it. But he found that he could not leave. It would be an easy task; easy to slip away from the mountain, concealed by the dark night and his ring to protect him from any prying eyes. Everything seemed so simple; so why was it so hard?</p>
<p>The answer was so simple, yet was causing all this trouble. Love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a tree grows in the shire

It was all too much. Too much for a simple hobbit to handle. Seeing his close friend and almost lover crumble under the dragon sickness was just overwhelming Bilbo with emotions he was ill prepared for. He needed to get away-away from the mountain and all the poisoned gold within it. But he found that he could not leave. It would be an easy task; easy to slip away from the mountain, concealed by the dark night and his ring to protect him from any prying eyes. Everything seemed so simple; so why was it so hard?

The answer was so simple, yet was causing all this trouble. Love.

Love was holding him to the mountain, holding him back from making his easy escape. His love and attachment to all the dwarves in the company was holding him to the cursed mountain, keeping him from slipping away. Though his mind fought it his heart could not deny that the strongest bond of love was with Thorin- the very dwarf who had ridiculed him upon their first meeting and was now slowly dwindling into madness brought on by his greed. The very greed that made Bilbo's stomach churn every time he saw it in Thorin's deep blue eyes. The greed that was developed from the gold, but poisoned the king under the mountain with just one stone. The arkenstone. The object that Bilbo kept carefully hidden in his satchel, far away from Thorin Oakensheild.

He hadn't intended to keep it, he may have been a burglar but he would never steal from his loved ones, but a small chat with Balin made him keep the stone as far away from Thorin as possible. The Arkenstone would only fuel Thorin's power lust. The Halfling knew what he had to do-and it would take no small amount of courage to do so.

He sat in the seemingly empty hallway in the cold gloomy mountain, looking at the small object in his hands and pondering on what he planned to do with it. Presumably alone, he let his guard down for once and tried to relax. Though that relaxation ended suddenly when a booming voiced echoed in the not so empty corridor.

"Master Burglar, what have you got in your hands?" Thorin practically roared at the small frightened hobbit, storming over with suspicious fury on his face.

Bilbo jumped in his seat, his hand closing around the small object tightly, resisting the tempting urge to put his hand behind his back and away from Thorin's peering eyes. His nose twitched nervously when he meet Thorin's hazy and angry eyes, "Oh it's-it's nothing," he tried to assure, his tone coming out nervous and shaky.

"Show me," he commanded lowly, his tone sending icy shivers straight down the hobbits spine. When the king's demand was not met straight away he grabbed the Halfling’s wrist almost too tightly, causing anxiety to rise up in Bilbo's chest.

He looked pleading up at the dwarf king, hoping with dire faith that he might see some sanity left in his friend's eyes but was disappointed to see none. With wide eyes full of fear and tried to tug his wrist away only to have Thorin tighten his grip, making the Halfling whimper softly. "Yo-you're hurting me Thorin," he managed to get out around the lump forming in his throat.

Thorin seemed to pay no mind to the painful amount of pressure he had on Bilbo's wrist, instead choosing to narrow his eyes at the hobbit, "Bilbo show me what you have in your hand."

Bilbo closed his eyes in fear but opened his hand, palm facing towards the high stone ceiling, revealing the small object that had caused all this fuss.

"An acorn?" came Thorin's surprisingly soft reply. Bilbo opened his eyes slowly, meeting the king's now soft blue ones with slight apprehension.

"Yes," he replied slowly, trying to calm his racing heart, "I picked it up in Beorn’s garden. I plan to plant it in my garden in the shire if I return." The 'if' hung heavy in the air, threatening to consume Thorin with fear of losing the small hobbit.

Thorin finally loosened his grip on the Halfling’s arm, his eyes lowering slightly, "Seems a poor prize for such troubles you have been forced into."

He simply shrugged, "Well not necessarily. One day it’ll grow, and when I look at it I can remember. Remember everything that happened, the good and the bad."

Thorin simply stared at the undeniably remarkable Halfling in front of him, trying to comprehend how it was possible that someone like himself would be lucky enough to stumble upon someone like Bilbo.

The dwarf almost couldn't believe his luck. He was so lucky to have someone so-innocent yet strong like Bilbo Baggins. Bilbo was turning out to be a sort of blessing in Thorin's life, yet neither of the thick headed men had figured out just how much they cared for each other-until it was too late.

All too soon the company of dwarves found themselves at war, their leader Thorin bravely facing off with the fearsome pale orc, Azog. Bilbo was standing on the stone structure with Dwalin, trying desperately to simultaneously fight off the orcs charging them and to keep a watchful eye on Thorin. Trying not to lose his focus on the vicious orcs attacking them was proving to be difficult, but only got harder when he heard a muffled shout from the ice where the king and the pale orc were fighting.

He turned to Ravenhill, fearing the worst yet hoping foolishly for the best. Bilbo's heart sank to his stomach, festering into a thick ball of sheer terror in the hobbits now slim stomach as he took in the scene on the ice.

The pale orc had fallen, and taken the dwarf king with him.

Forgetting everything he dropped sting and ran. Ran towards the ice were Thorin was thankfully moving to some rocks, but was clutching his stomach with agony written clear as day on his face. Bilbo's mind was blank as he fell to his knees beside Thorin, hands shaking as he brushed some hair off of the dwarfs sweaty face, letting his small hands tenderly touch Thorin's cheeks.

Thorin’s stormy blue eyes widened upon seeing the worn looking hobbit. He felt worn down himself, but despite everything that was going on he still smiled seeing the Halfling by his side. “B-bilbo,” he breathed out, smiling happily.

Bilbo felt a mix of panic and helplessness as he looked over Thorin’s blood spattered body, locating the ghastly wound on his mid-section. “Shh,” He tried to quiet Thorin’s constant mumbling while he nervously reached his hands out to peel back the cloth of the king’s tunic from his wound, gagging slightly from the sight of the blood pouring from it.

Though the dwarf paid no mind to his wound, instead feeling blissful that Bilbo was truly by his side and he wasn’t just imaging this. He slowly reached his hand up, trying to grab the hobbit’s trembling little hands, but found himself too weak. Luckily for him the hobbit understood what he wanted and he grapsed Thorin’s large hand in his own, pressing the king’s hand to his cheek, cradling it there while the tears welled in his eyes.

Thorin took a deep breath, wincing slightly at the pain the action shot through his weakened body. “I wish to part from you in,” he thought for a moment before saying, “friendship. You did what only a true friend would do master Baggins and for that I am grateful.”  
Bilbo sniffled pathetically, the tears running down his cheeks, “No Thorin you won’t be parting from me-the the eagles will be here and you and I and everyone else will be okay. It’s all going to be okay.”

But Thorin just shook his head slowly, keeping his eyes on the small burglar, using his thumb to wipe away the tears on Bilbo’s face. The hobbit leaned into his touch, squeezing the dwarf’s hand slightly. “I am eternally sorry to have brought such a gentle creature into such peril, you are not made for such sadness and terror. I am so sorry little one,” he said softly, his sad blue eyes locking with Bilbo’s watery green ones. 

“No no,” Bilbo rushed out, leaning his face closer to Thorin’s, “it was an honor to share in your perils Thorin; every single one of them.”

He smiled at the remarkable hobbit, amazed at how the Halfling always seemed to surprise him. “Go back to your home Bilbo, to your books and your armchair. Plant your trees and watch them grow,” he paused to look over the hobbit’s face briefly, “If more of us valued food and cheer and song above hoarded gold, the world would be a merrier place.” The hobbit choked on a sob as more tears raced down his face and Thorin smiled at him one last time before saying, “Farewell Master Burglar.”

Bilbo felt panicked as Thorin’s hand went limp. He dropped it and instead caressed Thorin’s face, “No no no, Thorin please no. Thorin look the eagles are here-look the eagles-“he stopped talking when he realized that the king could no longer hear him. The sobs escaped from his throat as he sat back against the rocks, lifting his fist to cover his mouth as the sobs continued for hours as the battle raged on.

Many years had passed since the hobbit had left the comfort of home to go on a wild and sorrow filled adventure with the company of dwarves. Age had touched the hobbit slightly, adding wisp of gray to his hair and adding hard lines to his once soft face. His oak tree had grown, and now drew attention of all the hobbits in the shire. His young nephew, Frodo, once loved the tree and would always try to play on it, before Bilbo scolded him for that, so the young hobbit stayed away.

That was long ago, and Frodo was deeply concerned with his uncle. Bilbo was labeled as a queer hobbit due to his odd behaviors since returning to the Shire, but lately it had grown worse and worse. He would often go outside to sit against the tree and talk to it, as if it were a person, referring to it as Thorin. Frodo would usually find Bilbo out there, skipping meals and sitting out there so long he would fall asleep against the tree to have Frodo carry him inside. There was also the crying. Bilbo tried not to break down often, but it happened. Late at night when he thought Frodo was asleep he would sob and sob, his cries waking his nephew.

He was living such a sad existence, and it was wearing down so heavily on the hobbit that Frodo was worried beyond belief. He had to think of something to help his poor sad uncle. With a bit of snooping around through the mail, Frodo found a letter from a dwarf in the far away kingdom of Erebor. The dwarf’s name was Balin and he seemed to be fond of Bilbo, or he once was. The letters progressively got shorter and shorter until they stopped coming completely due to the hobbit’s lack of response to his friend. Even though the letters had stopped coming, Frodo still saw this dwarf as an opportunity to give him some answers on how to help his uncle, before it was too late.

Writing with dire hopes that his pleads would be taken to heart, Frodo sent the letter to the far misty mountains to the dwarf Balin. And then he waited and waited for some kind of response, but would not get one for close to a year.

On a seemingly normal and boring autumn morning, there was a knock on the door that interrupted Frodo from his breakfast. The young Halfling walked over to the door, ready to let in his friend Sam or his rowdy cousins but instead was shocked to see four very unhobbit like dwarves on his doorstep. There was a large bald one, very intimidating in his appearance to Frodo who was unaccustomed to seeing such large warriors in the shire. The two dwarves in front were smiling excitedly, the brunette’s smiling faltering when his eyes landed on Frodo.

“Hey you’re not Bilbo,” The young, beardless dwarf asked, confusion written clearly on his face.

“No I’m not,” Frodo breathed out, still in awe at the dwarves on his doorstep, “I’m his nephew, Frodo. Uhm which one of you is Mister Balin?”

The intimidating one spoke up in a gruff voice that fit his appearance, “Balin wasn’t able to make the trip, but we got your letter. I’m his brother Dwalin, these rascals-“

“Can introduce themselves,” The beardless one interrupted suddenly, “I’m Kili and this is my brother Fili.” The blonde one bowed slightly at the waist with his brother, both of them surprising Frodo with their synchronization. 

Frodo was taken aback but delighted by their unexpected arrival, “and who are you?” he asked the mysterious hooded dwarf. The dwarf turned his head to face Frodo, the hood and bright sun of the shire casting a shadow that protected half of his hard face. “Thorin,” he said, his voice low and just barely heard by the hobbit, “Is Bilbo there? I’d like to see him.”

“Bilbo is still in bed,” Frodo said, stepping out of the way and holding the round door open, “But please come in and make yourselves at home. There’s breakfast in the kitchen, plenty to go around.”

The four dwarves walked into the house, Fili and Kili rushing into the kitchen while Dwalin simply sat down on one of the dining room seats. Thorin walked into the hobbit hole slowly, taking his time to look around and soak in the details of the homey place. He walked over to the armchair in front of the fireplace, dragging his fingertips over the worn fabric of the chair, his sad eyes scanning over the chair as if it meant a great deal of importance to him.

“I’ll go wake my uncle,” Frodo announced after watching Thorin simply examine the fireplace area for a while, feeling something in his heart clench at the sight of longing in the dwarf’s eyes. “I really think seeing you guys again will help him out,” he said before going to Bilbo’s room only to find it empty. He sighed walking to the front door again only to see that Thorin had also disappeared. Frodo popped his head into the kitchen and found Fili, Kili, and Dwalin all sitting in there talking in low murmurs. “Um pardon me,” he said before excusing himself outside, going to the small oak tree were he found Bilbo as expected.

But what surprised him was the fact that Thorin was standing next to Bilbo.

Bilbo was sadly looking at the tree, keeping his eyes off of Thorin while tears slipped down his cheeks, “You can’t possibly be him,” he mumbled sadly, finally turning to look at the dwarf king with sad eyes ,”This is a cruel joke.”

Thorin didn’t say anything, just removed the hood from his head and reached out to grab the hobbit’s hand. They stood there for a moment before the Halfling let out a small sob before squeezing Thorin’s hand hard, laying his other hand on the dwarf’s cheek. Bilbo let out a little chuckle, the tears continue to fall down his cheeks, “Why? Why wait until now to show up? Why would you let me wither away and let me believe that you would never return to me? But more importantly how did you survive?”

The dwarf just smiled fondly at the hobbit, allowing his eyes to selfishly take in what he had been missing for what felt like an eternity. “There will be plenty of time for me to answer all of your questions Bilbo, just allow me to have what I have been waiting a life time for,” he spoke softly, the words he had practiced saying for months suddenly being replaced by that simple request.

A look of confusion passed over Bilbo’s face before he breathed out and nodded, fully trusting that Thorin would be true to his word despite everything that had happened. Thorin smiled before slowly and tenderly promising that he would never again hurt his hobbit with a soft chaste kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> hi wow so that was my first time writing fanfiction for the hobbit and idk i liked it 8) i had a lot of fun writing it and i hope that it was good. please give some feedback if you get the chance because i want to write more hobbit fanfiction, thank you for reading :3


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